


Spinning the Tumbler

by saucisson



Series: Safecracking [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucisson/pseuds/saucisson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out, Ianto and Jack have met before</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinning the Tumbler

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little vignette about the first time Jack met Ianto, and a realization that follows years later.

Ianto had sighed in relief, resting an arm across the trunk of a tree. What had he had, eight pints? He didn’t think he’d ever stop pissing. Done, finally! Ahh, bugger! That was great. Then a crackle to his right, a footstep in shrubbery. Ianto felt a surge of adrenaline. Oh fuck, he thought, I’m going to be robbed. Or murdered. With my fucking willy out. Oh god please don’t let them find my body with my willy out!

The man stepped out from the shadows. He held his hands out from his sides, open. No weapons. He took two cautious steps towards Ianto, who was fumbling with the buttons on his jeans. Buggery fucking button-fly, the girls said they were sexy. The man stopped, just watching him. Ianto noticed the man’s eyes drop to his groin, then back up to his face. An inquisitive look, a quick glance around. 

How ‘bout it then? he said.

I du... uh...wha’? Ianto replied, slurring slightly.

Go on, the man said with a sly smile. He was taller than Ianto but not by much. What age? Maybe late 30s. Hard to tell in the light of a half-moon. Ianto was having a hard time focusing and stumbled back a step. The man had trousers and a greatcoat. Was he a policeman? What was going on?

Sorry, sir, he mumbled, I was desperate for a slash. I didn’t think anyone was about, it’s uh, dunno what time it is.

The man laughed. I’m not a cop. There’s no one else about, I promise. So. You up for it? He took two more steps towards Ianto, who stood rooted to the spot. The man’s eyes traveled down his body again. Two more steps and they were nose to nose. Okay, Ianto heard himself say. The man’s hands dropped to the waist of Ianto’s jeans and undid the hastily-fastened buttons with one tug.

Ianto’s mouth opened in surprise, but he made no move to stop what was happening. His head was swimming. The man gripped his shoulders and steered him backwards til he was leaning with the small of his back against a low branch. Hands back at Ianto’s belly again, fingers curling under the waistband of his briefs. Another quick glance right, left, then pushing the waist of his briefs down.

One hand held down the his briefs, the other took Ianto’s cock in hand and slid fingers from base to tip, paying particular attention to the spot right behind the head. Ianto’s eyes closed as the fingers slid back down. He could feel the blood rush to his groin, feel the surge of heat, and feel himself get hard. The fingers tightened around his cock, and Ianto breathed in sharply. He had a fleeting thought of how different it felt than girls doing it, and how of course that made sense, and then his universe collapsed into the rhythm of sex. One stroke, two, three. Faster! he whispered, surprised at his own voice, and the man obliged. The pressure built quickly, Ianto’s breathing became irregular, his legs became weak. He put his hands out against the man’s chest to steady himself and then oh god oh god oh god oh! Ianto felt his whole body melt, heat and pleasure pulsing out from his cock. His knees locked, he heard his own rhythmic moaning. The hand that was on his briefs clapped over his mouth to muffle the sound. Ianto’s fingers curled in the man’s shirt as he came in spurts on the man, on himself, on the ground. He heard the man’s voice a in whispering chuckle, Teenagers! The hand relaxed and fingers lightly traced the aftershocks. Ianto’s gasping slowed, he shook his head and the hand came away from his mouth. Stop, stop, stop, he panted, pushing the hand away as the sensation became too much.

Ianto’s eyes came back into focus. The man stood still in front of him, breathing heavily himself. Ianto’s left hand was still clutching the man’s shirt. He let go quickly and backed further into the branch behind him. The man yanked Ianto’s briefs back up, then his jeans. He gave Ianto’s cock, still semi-hard, a final gentle squeeze. Thanks, the man said. You were great.

I’m not gay! Ianto blurted out. Neither am I! the man cheerily replied, then turned and walked back into the shadows.

What the fuck just happened? Ianto thought. He quickly buttoned his jeans again and turned walked quickly back towards the path through the park. Home, he thought. Nobody saw, nobody knows. This never happened. He got busy forgetting.

***

Jack turned over the memory of Ianto on top of him, those startled blue eyes telegraphing the moment -- _that_ moment, when the tumbler spins just right and the pins line up and _*click!*_ the lock opens, when the mind (and body, in this case) suddenly says Aha! but by the time Jack had decided to go in for the kiss, the moment was gone. I should go, Ianto had said, and stalked out of the warehouse.


End file.
